


Reality Broken

by Hitting_on_Cullen



Series: Tales of Fen'Harel and Elgar'nan [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Elvhen Pantheon, Evanuris, F/M, Flirting, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:14:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24616612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitting_on_Cullen/pseuds/Hitting_on_Cullen
Summary: What's worse than Corypheus? How about seven Elvhen gods escaping the fade and threatening to wage war on the Inquisition if they don't get what they want? Lavellan gets a wake up call about Solas and Solas is reunited with his long lost lover.
Relationships: Elgar'nan/Female Lavellan, Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel (Dragon Age)/Original Elvhen Character(s), Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Tales of Fen'Harel and Elgar'nan [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779670
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, welcome to what I've affectionately come to label my "project pony". Expect this one to go much faster than my crappy stories written when I was still in high school that sit there in the depths of my account, untouched. This is part of my series Tales of Fen'harel and Elgar'nan, which is going to consist of two separate stories of nearly the same timeline, following Sah'rel and Ayra Lavellan's chaotic romances. I expect to have A LOT of fun with these babies, hopefully you guys do too, I'm really excited about them. 
> 
> There will be the occasional sex scene so I will be labeling those in the title so fear not of the surprise birds and the bees. 
> 
> First chapter is pretty short, just a little intro to the plot, don't worry it won't be like that for the rest of the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 12/16/2020

“Elven nobility? That’s ridiculous, Josephine.” Ayra Lavellan said with a look of skepticism. 

“Are you sure this isn’t some fancy Orlesian trap to assassinate the Inquisitor?” The rich Fereldan accent of Cullen soothed the Dalish Inquisitor and Ayra mentally agreed with the stoic Commander. However, if the rumors were true, then she wanted to be there to witness them, the first ever Elven nobles in Thedas. It certainly was a step up from how Thedas was acting towards elves a week ago. 

“I want to do this Josephine,” Her voice held firmness, “All my companions will come.” Cassandra spoke up now. 

“The Bull will most likely bring unwanted attention-” Ayra shifted on her feet.

“Or he will act as a preventative measure.” A low sigh came from Cassandra but she said no more. Aya was bullheaded and often did things her way even if her advisors told her to do otherwise and actually made sense. 

“Fine. Solas will get testy though.” Eyes rolled in the Inquisitor’s head as they brought up her lover. 

“He’s grouchy about everything except the fade, Cassandra.” Sharp eyes bore into her.

“But this is nobility, elven or not, respect is a must.” She couldn’t put up with much more negativity from these people. After this meeting, she would go to Solas to ask about his opinion. 

So she found herself in the rotunda about fifteen minutes later, leaning on the elven apostates desk. 

“Elven nobility?” Solas scoffed, eyes rolling. “Is it too late for me to call you out on being delusional?” Okay so she didn’t expect this amount of pessimism. Nevertheless, she leaned forward, a desperate smile on her face. 

“Nobility Solas, real life fucking Elven nobility, come on, you have to be somewhat excited about that.” An irritated look is all she got. She sighed, feeling defeated, dainty shoulders falling. Not even Solas had an inch of hope for this party, she could tell that he was particularly filled with anxiety about it. She didn’t know what to do, she could only hope that her skills in Orlesian politics could transfer over to goddamn Elven nobility. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 12/16/2020

She had resorted to laying down in Solas’ rotunda, happy to simply watch him study everything fade. All of the companions had agreed to come with her but all with skepticism. 

“Knock knock old man,” A sultry voice called out from the doorway. Ayra didn’t have a clue who the curly, black haired elf leaning against the doorway was. She watched in silence as an Elven woman stood and sauntered over to Solas’ desk. “Been a while hasn’t it?” Solas looked up, eyebrows raised in what looked to be extreme surprise. 

“Sah’rel?" Solas sounded genuinely surprised, reeling back as if slapped. "What are you doing here? How?" He stuttered. The poor elf looked as if he was going to have a panic attack any second. Sah’rel as she was now known as, waved around a letter. 

“I thought you might want a partner for that sketchy little party being called.” Solas’ head dipped, looking skeptical yet appreciative. Ayra could see the smile in his eyes and her own eyes narrowed at the woman. Who the hell was this lady?

She was tall, and had Ayra been interested in women, she would’ve pointed out her enticingly curvy body. Ayra watched the interaction with a silent seething jealousy. 

“Thank you Sah’rel, I wasn’t even aware you got an invitation, or how.” The elven woman gave a low laugh, sitting on his desk. 

“How could you know, we haven’t talked in ages,” Solas gave a sarcastic look to Sah'rel, something Ayra never saw on his face. Sah’rel opened the invitation and gave it to Solas. “Do you think they’re who I think they are?” A grim look grew on Solas’ face. 

“How could it be them? It’s impossible.” Sah’rel tutted. 

“Not entirely, rips in the veil vhenan, they would have easily been attracted to the other side, exactly how spirits are.” 

Vhenan? What the hell was going on here? 

“Excuse me but who the hell are you?” She finally spoke up, agitation in her voice. Both slowly looked over at the Inquisitor and with a smirk, Sah’rel introduced herself with a dramatic bow. Ayra didn't trust this new elf with an inch of her body and if it came to it, she would kill her in a second. 

“Ah, you must be the dirty mistress. I am Sah’rel, childhood friend and lover of your fade expert as you like to call him.” Ayra stepped back, feeling her heart shatter. Was he sneaking behind her back or was this a past lover come to torment the both of them? 

To hell with it, she's not going to let this elven woman just strut into Skyhold and think that she can take her lover. No, she'd fight tooth and nail for him. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 10/16/2020

Lover? It felt like a bit of her died inside. Of course Solas would have past lovers, he’s not unattractive by any means, but Ayra barely compared to the woman standing next to him. So she sneaked away, skulking around Skyhold, licking her wounds. 

Eventually, she found her way to Bull and Dorian above in the library. They had resorted to comforting her in the least useful way possible via teasing. 

Downstairs, Sah’rel laid down on the daybed in the rotunda. 

“If it is them, your little Inquisition is in absolute danger with that pitiful woman leading.” Solas growled at her words, staring down at the names on the fancy Orlesian paper. How the hell had the All-father and his merry band of godlings escaped? As his mind raced, he came to a realization, ever since a few weeks ago, the magic in the world seemed, in a way, stronger, more powerful, more present. More mages have been popping up in Thedas than ever before and just recently, the Inquisitor herself lit the barn on fire for the first time ever. It wouldn’t surprise the two false gods if it was the Evanuris’ new presence in Thedas making such a massive impact on the world.

It certainly made an impact on his powers. Before, his mana was slowly but steadily returning, but now, it felt like a fast moving waterfall, crashing back into him, and sometimes it even made him feel short of breath. He had reached full power only a few days ago and immediately pushed it down. It would not go well for him if the Templar's in Skyhold felt the sudden increase of power, most likely assuming possession. 

“Right.” His easy dismissal of the topic made Sah’rel sit up. 

“You might just want to give them another chance, Fen.” He shook his head. 

“Redemption after what they did? Not possible.” His elvhen lover’s quiet steps moved behind him and her arms wrapped around his waist. 

“They’ve had hundreds of thousands of years to think about their mistakes, there’s no way they haven’t fixed themselves somehow.” Solas scoffed, dipping his head. 

“Andruil thinking? What a preposterous idea.” He felt Sah’rel chuckle behind him and step away. He missed her affection if he was being truthful, how she was on the same level as him. He could talk complex military strategy with her and not be ridiculed because he was a “hobo apostate” and shouldn't know that kind of knowledge. 

“You’re not wrong on that, ma fen. Come, even if you can’t take charge, you could at least steal the show with a little of your old lavish armor.” Arguing with the woman would be futile, she was extremely stubborn and pretty much the only one who he couldn’t outsmart. So he followed her into the depths of Skyhold, past his wards and into the armory that he kept heavily guarded. 

Dread and regret was all he could feel as he stared at the mannequin holding his ancient formal robes. Next to it, on a stand sat the thing that set him so far apart from the Inquisition in terms of power. 

His crown and sword. 

“Fen, they are testing you, pushing you to see how far you’ve fallen. This is meant to be a show of power, dress to impress vhenan.” She pushed him in exactly the right way. 

_ They want power play huh?  _

“I can see those cocky gears turning in your head Fen.” When he stayed silent, she continued, “You can’t hide behind this lowly apostate visage any longer with the Evanuris back in the world and you know it.” Sah’rel was as painful as it was to admit it, right. When he walked into that ballroom, they would call him out by Fen’harel without hesitation and then he would have no choice but to accept it. 

“The crown needs to leave-ah!” Sah’rel’s palm met with his head in a rather uncomfortable and wet sounding slap. 

“Show of power you fucking moron, you’re a former king, suck it up and own that role with solas, Fen.” He slumped to the ground, sighing heavily. 

“I can’t, vhenan.” With that, she walked away, leaving him to stare at his history, his past, and now his future. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 2/20/21

“Solas as the magical advisor?” Cullen muttered, “It didn’t work with the Orlesian court, it probably won’t work with whatever this is.” Cassandra huffed. 

“We have to come up with something that will give him a reason to approach the nobility if things go south for the Inquisitor.” For the past hour, Aya’s advisors have been tirelessly trying to choose roles for everybody and it was proving painful and exhausting. They were heading out today and they had gotten nowhere. 

“So are we going to ignore the elf that strutted into the rotunda and basically told me to hop off her man?” Aya spoke up. Josephine stopped her furious writing at her statement. 

“Oh, her.” The room went quiet and everyone grew uncomfortable. 

“I-I don’t know.” The doors slammed open and speak of the devil and the devil shall appear. Her face was twisted into fury and frankly the advisors thought twice before speaking with her. 

“The Inquisitor is in the shadows for this ball.” Josephine gave the intimidating elf a curious and confused look. 

“What do you mean, my lady?” Cassandra said with a wary gaze. A moment of silence before Sah’rel’s hands slammed onto the table and she bent over. 

“This is a jab at your Fade expert, he is not unfamiliar with these nobility as they like to call themselves.” That shocked everybody. “This is for Solas to handle, not this failure of a descendant of my people. Inquisitor you will stay as the Inquisitor, you sad little group of shems will be her advisors. Pavus, Tetheras, Madame de Fer, the Qunari, and you will be the entourage. I am his lover and wife so I will be at his side, as formalities call for.” Aya was about to make an angry remark before Sah’rel continued. “That pitiful little man will own up to his role and I will slap him silly if he doesn’t grow arrogant and cocky anytime soon.” She was gone before the group could say anything to the elven woman. They could only stand in shock as they watched her storm away. 

“Uh, should we be listening to her Inquisitior?” Cullen muttered, scratching at the back of his neck, uncomfortable. 

“Wife?”

“I-um, dismissed? Josephine, do you need me for dresses? Or are we using the uniforms we used for the Winter Palace?” A cough broke the uncomfortable silence. 

“Yes, I do, thank you for reminding me Lady Lavellan.” 

The war room cleared out, tension following all of the people in it. 

Midday, Ayra found herself stuck with Josephine, being shoved in dress after dress. 

“This is ridiculous, just let me wear the uniform I wore at the Winter Palace, Josephine.” The stubborn woman shook her head. 

“You need to show look your best, these are your people, Inquisitor, show them your power and they’ll give you respect.” Ayra scoffed, throwing her head back in disbelief. 

“You actually believe I’ll be the one running the show? It’s hard to believe it but I’m pretty sure that the new Elven lady and Solas have experience with these people.” 

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean anything when it comes to you being the actual person in charge.” Ayra slumped her shoulders, every step towards this moment and further had made her fight tooth and nail, she couldn’t even get a break for her love life!   
  


“I’m tired of this, Josephine, if i don’t get a legitimate break from work, I’m going to combust from the stress.”   
  


The Antivan women merely laughed and stood back to let the seamstress do her job. 


	5. Chapter 5 **NSFW**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 2/20/21

The Inquisition didn’t know what to expect from the appearance the strange duo would be making when they met up in front of the gates. Truthfully, they were antsy with anticipation and curiosity. 

In the castle itself, Sah’rel was pacing. She was going to be furious if Fen’harel didn’t walk clad in gold and unfathomably expensive robes. 

Her patience wore off quick and she stormed inside the rotunda. Inside, her furious expression melted into affection. 

“Sneaking up on me is not a good idea, vhenan.” Her lips lifted in a small smile, there’s the overwhelming confidence and condescending attitude she knew so well. 

“I see you listened to me, Fen.” Solas squared his shoulders, rolling his head to help relax his neck. She walked up to him, grasping shiny bangles in one hand, fingering the carefully crafted indents and artistry within the golden jewelry. 

“I’ve decided I’ll see how everything goes and if they show improvement, I will give them a second chance at living and ruling in this world.” Solas took hold of the cuffs, securing them on his wrists. Standing behind her lover, she clasped the heavy necklace around his neck, brushing her hands over his showy armor clad shoulders. 

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” She rested her forehead on his back, hands grasping at his chest. His own larger hands covered hers, stroking them. 

“Ar lath ma.” He took in the gentle moment, standing there, relishing in her enticing perfume. Solas turned around, stepping back to look at his lover's form. “That’s the dress from that one ball you fought with Andruil at, right?” That effectively ruined the quiet moment with Sah’rel and it degenerated into chuckling. 

“Yeah, that’s the one.” His crown was handed to him and he stared at the heavy piece of gold for a while, fighting an inner battle. 

_This is exactly what he fought against, and here he was, convincing himself to embrace the very thing he hated._

He felt Sah’rel’s hand on his forearm, gently squeezing. 

“If you don’t do this Fen, they _will_ go back to their old habits and this time, there is no veil to put up that can lock them away.” 

“What will the Inquisition think of me after this, what will the Inquisitor see me as when she learns that I’m the very thing she’s taught to fear and hate?” He regretted that sentence the moment he saw the affection in Sah’rel’s eyes turn to sadness. 

“The Inquisitor huh,” Solas knew that this would come up eventually. “When?” He couldn’t find the words, and he found that he could only avoid her eyes, frowning and stepping back. 

“I don’t know.” She sighed, shaking her head and standing up a little straighter. 

“I see, clearly she’s not so important that you have an anniversary,” Her smirk was back, and she took the crown from his hands, placing the heavy metal on his head, “Dirty Mistress she is then.” Her fingers were on his neck then, and her lips on his. Solas sighed into the kiss, hands finding her hips, drawing her closer. It was like a weight was lifted off his chest, he felt rejuvenated. He had nearly forgotten her taste, how her lips melded perfectly with his and a heat settled low in his stomach. Something felt right, more so than with the woman shadowed by his Elvhen spouse. They dropped common, naturally falling back into Elvhen. “ _Garas aman nam’is vhenan,_ ” Sah’rel muttered between kisses. “I missed you so much,” 

The world briefly spun as Sah’rel turned them around, guiding the wolf to his desk. Anticipation filled both of them as the desk scraped the floor with the weight Solas was putting on it. The false god found that he was short of breath as he watched his lover fall to her knees. Every brush of her hands felt over sensitized, overwhelming. He truly felt like a wretched god as he rested his hands on the back of Sah’rel’s head, pulling her upwards from where she was happily nuzzling the inside of his thigh, looking up at him with adoration. She looked like a worshiper, as if she was paying tribute to him. 

“ _Ma’Haurasha Sah’rel_ ,” Solas groaned. He was unable to stop his hand from tangling in Sah’rel’s hair, gently tugging at it, brushing her face against his obvious erection. He didn’t expect her to engulf his cloth covered cock in her mouth, but he loved every second of it. “Vhenan.” His voice came out low, gravelly, rumbling. When she brushed his robes to the side, grasping at the top of his leather pants, his head fell back, stomach flexing in anticipation, and his hips gently moving into her touch. 

“Ma Fen, may I?” Her low voice tore him out of his trance. His only response was his hands tightening around her hair, hips thrusting more insistently. Solas braced himself against the desk, knees growing weak as she took him out and when the wet heat of her mouth engulfed him, speech left him, leaving only guttural groans and moans. He certainly wasn’t expecting to get a blowjob before they had to head out for the ball. The time constraint woke him up and he stilled his hips. With concerned eyes, Sah’rel checked on him. “You okay vhenan?” 

“We have to leave soon, Sah’rel.” She dipped back down, licking a stripe up the bulging vein on the underside of his cock. “Sah’rel!” Her eyes teased, lust filled and the Elvhen man knew she wasn’t going to stop. 

“I guess I’ll have to work quickly, your highness.” His breath left his lungs at “your highness” and he ran a finger across her lower lip. She moved to take a long finger in her mouth and mimicked sucking on him, tongue wrapping around the digit. He was entranced, and his jaw dropped, she was beautiful with her lips wrapped around his finger. The vibrations from her moans set his groin on fire, his cock painfully hard. 

“Fenedhis.” The curse came out as a moan as he fell back on the desk, dragging Sah’rel with him. He quickly praised the gods for the dress Sah’rel decided to wear and praised them even more when instead of feeling underclothes, he felt her wet heat. “You didn’t wear-you planned this.” She gave a barely guilty smile, sitting on his hips, her cunt settling on the length of Solas’ cock. 

“It’s been so long Fen, I want you.” She whined, rocking her hips against him. Solas’ grip on her hips tightened and with a low groan, he sheathed himself in her. His mouth fell open, head falling back onto the desk. The couple sat there for a second, just reveling in the feeling. 

It was almost overwhelming for Sah’rel, she nearly came just from the initial penetration. A small rock of Sah’rel’s hips told the pair that neither of them would last long in this moment. 

“Mm, vhenan.” Solas trailed off, giving a hearty thrust. The high pitched whine pushed him to the edge and he briefly pulled out. Solas flipped Sah’rel on her stomach before slamming home once more. “ _Nuvenan rosa’da’din in ma sule enan’ma._ ” His hand tangled into her hair once more and she groaned, pushing back against him. 

Gentle didn’t describe the session, just raw desire and bruising grips. His thrusts ripped high pitched moans out of her and sooner or later he had to use his belt to mute her. Solas had always loved how vocal she was, and he fell forward, lips meeting Sah’rel’s shoulder. Breaths came out ragged as Sah’rel tightened around him, impossibly tight. 

Sah'rel threw her head back onto his shoulder, mouth falling open in a silent scream as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of her. She writhed under him, painfully aware she couldn’t move back against him now that he had his weight on her. Over and over he aimed for that spot and eventually she froze, back contorted into a painful looking arch, jaw dropped and silent tears running down her face. 

“You look so beautiful like this, Sah’rel, ar lath ma.” Solas purred, stroking her hair, continuing to thrust hard into her, chasing his own orgasm now. His body collapsed on her, jaw locking on her shoulder, fingers ripping at her hair. He was relentless, wet noises echoing through the rotunda as he rammed into her, fingers with a bruising grip. 

Sah’rel could barely choke out her lovers name, gasping for air in overwhelming pleasure she’d been starved of for thousands of years in Uthenera. 

A particularly sharp thrust had her crying out particularly loud. Her cries spurred him on, gasps coming shorter. He could feel it and his eyes closed, focusing on that singular sensation. “Just a little more, you feel amazing Sah’rel.” 

“Please, please, oh god Fen’harel please!” His hand clapped over her mouth, his suddenly sharp nails creating small bloody gouges into her cheek in a cruel warning to silence herself. Not a minute later, he felt euphoria, letting out low grunts into her back. Releasing inside of her wasn’t a concern of his, he’s already sired one son, one more wouldn’t be an issue. He laid there for a while, whispering sweet nothings into his wife's ear. 

“You did good vhenan,” He kissed her cheek, stroking her jaw with one hand. Gently and slowly, he pulled out. Back was the gentle Solas, inhuman nails back to normal, alas they had no time to rest and enjoy each other. They were more than likely extremely late and Josephine would probably come looking for them soon. 

Sah’rel moved to clean Solas’ release before being stopped. 

“Leave it vhenan.” She knew this game, it was common for him to do this before she went amongst a large group of people in the past. Marking his territory. 

Dumb wolf. 

“Honestly Fen, you’ve always been so extra about parties and me.” He simply rubbed his cheek against hers. 

“Simply a security measure.” Climbing off of Sah’rel, he tucked his quickly softening cock into his pants, straightening himself out, fixing his outfit. He helped Sah'rel get presentable again and held her tightly against him. 

It wasn’t hard for him to choose between the Inquisitor and his Elvhen wife. 

Sah’rel would always come first for him. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 2/20/21

“Those two are taking forever, just how long does it take for droopy ears to get dressed?” Sera whined, toying with her uniform impatiently. The Inquisitor had ignored the elven woman out of spite and jealousy, bringing those she wanted. 

“Dumb bitch is probably scheming against me for all I know,” The Bull shrugged, glancing at Ayra with a pitiful look in his eyes. Ayra sneered, “Oh what the hell are you looking at Qunari?” Dorian piped up, a small smile on his face. 

“Darling, that woman looked like she could break all of us in half with a snap of her fingers.” Ayra shrugged, raising an eyebrow. 

“And?” The Tevinter mage sighed. 

“You aren’t in any way a second rate woman darling, you could seduce Cullen with that voluptuous body in a hot second, but that woman, she’s on a whole other level.” The woman threw her hands up, groaning loudly. 

“You aren’t fucking helping Dorian!” The two males shrugged, turning away from the seething woman, leaving her to stew in anger by herself. 

“Oh, well hobo apostate dresses up extremely well, if left to his own accord apparently,” If somebody had told Ayra that Dorian would be giving a wolf whistle at Solas a few months ago, she would’ve blanched and skulked around Skyhold in jealousy. “Madame de Fer is going to blow a nerve when she sees him.” It made Ayra turn around, it made everybody turn around actually. 

The group would've never guessed that Solas had that sort of clothing hidden in his mess of shaggy sweaters and foot wrappings. 

The tails of the extremely expensive looking robes fluttered dramatically in the mountain’s constant wind, giving him a larger than life presence. 

“Is that real gold jewelry he’s wearing?” Dorian muttered, licking his lips.

“Careful Dorian, you’re drooling.” Vivienne purred, a smirk on her face. Frankly, she was impressed with the hedge mage. Showy pauldrons decorated his shoulders, more for fashion than actual protection. 

“Droopy ears is wearing earrings, what the hell?” Sera hissed, eyebrows climbing up her forehead. “And a sword, he knows how to use a sword? Oh fuck him.” Throwing her arms up, she turned away, huffing in irritation. Solas walked towards them, arms folded behind his back, a frown on his face. 

The Inquisitor could only call him elegant, absolutely beautiful. Every stride held confidence, his head held high, a cold look in his eyes, as if he was trying to steel his nerves.

This was a bad idea, frankly it was a terrible idea. He could feel the people around him judging, hear them gossiping about the hedge mage dressed as nobility would. 

That hit too close to home for comfort. 

“Vhenan, you’re fine, don’t worry, it’ll be even worse at the party.” Solas huffed, glaring at his wife. 

“Thanks for making everything better, Sah’rel,” She gave a false look of apology. “You’re terrible.” 

“I learn from the best, old man.” 

He nearly forgot she was his pupil in Elvhenan. 

Sah’rel herself was dressed exceptionally well. Her lips stained a tempting red that she had applied only after their tumble in his office. 

“You look stunning, Sah’rel.” Solas murmured, hand on the small of her back, gently pushing her in front of him. 

“Thank you Fen. Now get yourself together and hopefully Fen’harel will make an appearance at the ball.” 

He would have to, dealing with the Evanuris was a marathon unto itself. The adrenaline in his blood was pumping, his nerves set on fire, there would be no way he could handle the rest of the Evanuris without embracing the wolf knocking at the edge of his mind. 

So he held his head high, strode to the gates with intimidating confidence, shoulders pushed back. There was enough trouble with Corypheus, he wouldn’t let seven gods cause even more chaos. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 2/20/21

The couple had gone in the last carriage alone and gratefully in silence. The entire way, Solas was running his speech in his head, face perpetually stuck in concentration. Sah’rel knew better than to interrupt his thoughts, this was him preparing to strut into the castle and make a dramatic entrance. Too long he’s been in the role of the quiet hedge mage, it would take a little time for him to fall back into his old behaviors, and she could wait. 

The carriage halted and the two Elves heard the horses nicker with the sudden stop. The footmen opened the door and Sah’rel motioned for Solas to go first. 

_Inhale._

_Exhale._

Just like old times, he muttered to himself as he slowly got out of the carriage. Heavy golden earrings swung from his ears, reminding him of his role. He shook his head, trying to shake off the anxiety, and stood up straight, arm bent for Sah’rel to take when she came out, his other arm folded behind his back, curled into a comforting fist. 

_Shut down the Gods, keep war from happening, possibly gain seven extremely powerful allies and all would be good._

“With how much magic has come back into the world, you might just be able to do what you planned for the world, without mass murder.” 

Dammit, she was right again. 

In front of them, the Inquisition stood, staring at the lavishly dressed duo. It was the crowns that stole their attention, the heavy metal reminding him of who he was before. Sah’rel unlatched her arm when they got to the gates where an obviously Elvhen escort stood for them. 

“He looks like he’s going to faint.” She muttered to Solas, who merely grumbled and started forward, ignoring everything else in the world. 

“Didn’t take chuckles as the partying type.” Oh they didn’t know anything about him. 

“You should’ve seen him when he was younger, he held parties all the time and ninety percent of the time he was completely wasted.” The sentence trailed off with a low laugh. She received curious looks from that new piece of information about their fade expert. 

In the castle, the magic flowed in a serene way. Where torches should’ve been, floating candles were. 

“Self sustaining magic, wow.” Cassandra muttered, eyes raking over the entire place. They only saw this in the occasional Elvhen ruin. Everywhere there were well dressed elves, and the Inquisitor’s group was completely out of their element. 

“It was common back in Elvhenan, easily made as if you were breathing,” Sah’rel muttered wistfully. “Nowadays, the veil keeps the amount of magic needed for such things trapped, so only the most powerful of mages are able to accomplish such a feat.” Cullen hissed behind her. 

“Just what we need, angry nobles with a crap ton of magic at their hands.” His anxiety, Sah’rel and Solas could relate to. If everything went wrong, the Inquisition could be destroyed in a snap of a finger. 

That’s if they are as powerful as Sah’rel thinks they are. 

“Show of power vhenan, show of power, he can do this.” She was worried, worried that he had become a pushover, and would let the rest of the gods walk all over him. 

“So, you guys seem to know some stuff about these guys, care to share with the rest of class?” The two of them shook their heads at Varric, a frown on their faces. The closer they got, the easier it was to spot the seven Elves that Solas had worked so hard to keep from harming The People any further. 

“Fen’harel my friend!” 

_Fuck._

“I’m going to need a drink.” Sah’rel could hop on that idea, and quickly snatched two flutes of champagne for them. 

“Wait, Fen’harel?” This was going to be a mess. 

He had no choice but to approach them now. Ignoring Ayra’s cries of frustration as he walked forward, he bore his eyes into Elgar’nan’s. 

One foot after another, he strode towards the Evanuris with a painfully clenched jaw. His vision tunneled as he got closer, the only person except him existing was Elgar’nan who sat on his throne, smirking, sneering. 

“No bowing or anything?” The rumbling voice of the All-Father called out haughtily. With a raised eyebrow and popped hip, Solas reciprocated. 

“What was the point of all of this?” There was silence for a while before Elgar’nan gave a hoot of laughter. 

“Oh I missed your attitude.” 

Solas was getting tired of this party real fast. 

_Show of power Solas._

That was his mantra throughout the entire conversation. Next to Elgar’nan sat Andruil, staring him down with a golden bloodthirsty glare. 

“Remind me why we’re letting him live _bae_?” The woman hissed, baring yellowing teeth at Solas. 

“We’ve asked you here because we’ve had a lot of time to think about our actions in Elvhenan and we’ve deemed your actions reasonable,” Elgar’nan said, level headed compared to his screeching daughter. “I would ask for a second chance.” A low laugh escaped Solas, as if he’d ever let them back into the world completely let loose. 

“You actually think I’d let you do that?” His nose caught the scent of Sah’rel’s perfume as she approached and her hand met his bicep in a comforting action. It didn’t help. “You enslaved the people, killed them, made our lives miserable and you’re asking for a damned second chance?” Solas roared, stepping forward, air shifting with his gathering mana. 

“Wait, what the hell is happening?” He was this close to losing it on the Inquisitor. He turned his head to her, jaw clenched. 

“Back off Inquisitor, this is not your fight.” Ayra looked at Solas, offended, eyes wide. 

“Oh really, who the hell is in charge here? Me!” She snapped, turning to the Evanuris. “If you have anything to say to the Inquisition it is I who you are to talk to, _not_ my fade expert.” 

The room went silent. 

“Oh how the mighty have fallen Fen.” The gravelly voice of Dirthamen spoke up. “A king, a god, and now a lowly expert on the very thing you crafted?” The sneer was obvious in his voice. “You’re pitiful.” He spat, getting into his face. Solas’ face kept neutral throughout Dirthamen's speech. It was neutral all the way to the point when Dirthamen flew across the room, Solas’ mana flaring, flooding the room. 

“Do not get in my face Dirthamen, you know what happens to people who anger me,” Solas snapped, stepping to the Elvhen God’s prone form. “Don’t forget who outsmarted you, trapped you, fought you and _won_.” 

There goes his facade. 

“Vhenan?” Sah’rel whispered, clutching at the back of his robes. “Don’t, please, no fighting.” When he turned to her, he stared into watery eyes, begging her lover to stop, to not attack those she called family, her father. 

“Listen to my daughter Fen’harel.” Elgar’nan called out. “We didn’t come here to fight, we came to call a truce, an alliance.” He slumped, his thoughts were a mess. 

_Show of power, vhenan._

His eyebrows furrowed, lips tightening. 

_Show of power._

His head rose, eye filled with determination. 

“Tell me about this alliance, Elgar’nan.” Solas spoke as he straightened himself out. Elgar’nan smiled, standing up and walking towards the rebel god. 

“Good, good,” The All-Father purred, circling around Solas. He felt like a Halla being circled by a bear, ready to pounce. “First of all, what’s with the ‘fade expert’ title?” 

Solas’ frown grew deeper. 

“I did not claim it myself, it was given to me.” 

The Inquisitor and her inner circle watched in awe as their meek but confident, hedge mage stood up to Gods recently thought locked up or fake even with utter confidence. The Inquisitor wanted to step in, to deal with the politics she thought were her duty but she knew deep down, in her gut that this was a delicate situation. 

“Who would’ve thought that Master Solas would know how to play the Game so well?” Josephine said with awe. 

“Elvhen gods, real fucking Elvhen gods.” Ayra trailed off, feeling lightheaded. Sah’rel was grinning next to her, pride in her eyes, adoration behind it. 

“Don’t worry _Da’len_ , you’ll be summoned eventually, my _bae_ has acknowledged your presence here.” Stiffly, Ayra nodded, staring forward, refusing to look at the woman claiming Solas as her husband. 

“How the hell does he know them?” If they truly were the Evanuris, they’ve been locked up this entire time. 

Just how old was Solas? 

Who is he? 

Sah’rel left Ayra’s side to go to Solas. Sadness washed over Ayra as Solas moved to hold her waist. She could never compete with that woman, she already had Solas in her web. 

The seven gods gave Sah’rel a nod and smile. 

“I see you’ve been reunited,” Silence is the response that Elgar’nan got. “Come now, that’s no way to say hello to your father.” He cooed, a small smile on his bowed lips. 

“You haven’t killed anybody yet, that’s surprising father.” Sah’rel sassed, eyebrow lifted. 

“Called it, you owe me brother.” Dirthamen called out to his brother, a grin on his face. Across the floor, Falon’din scowled at him, waving his hand, a pouch of coins appearing in front of his brother. 

“Ass.” 

“Control yourselves please?” Elgar’nan muttered, glaring at the duo. 

“You made a bet on Fen and I?” Sah’rel hissed, “on what?” Falon’din shrugged. 

“Whether or not you’d notice the lack of homicide at this party.” If her eyes could roll out of their sockets, they’d be halfway across the ballroom floor by now. 

“Whether or not you want to accept it, we are trying _not_ to get killed by your husband.” June said from his splayed position in his throne. She couldn’t hold back the snort. 

“Avoiding conflict? The Evanuris? The damn world is ending.” The sarcasm was laid on thick and Solas couldn’t help but let out a low laugh at the mini argument between the Evanuris and his wife. It was then that Elgar’nan leaned forward, eyes locked onto the Inquisition. 

“So, I assume you are the Inquisitor?” The All-Father was up to something, Solas and Sah’rel could tell by the purr of his voice. 

“I am, what of it?” Ayra said in a shaking voice. It was intimidating seeing the God she revered in a throne in real life, but as Elgar’nan stood to his full height, she fought the urge to flee. 

“Tiny little thing you are, a pitiful excuse of my People.” Ayra’s jaw dropped before she glared at him. 

“You-how dare you?” He circled her like a hungry wolf, eyes raking over her lithe body. Head tilted, smirk on his face, Elgar’nan responded. 

“Of course, how dare I?” His hand grabbed at her chin, forcing her to crane her neck to look up at the tall Elf. “I can say with confidence though, that you have a stunning form, da’len.” He purred into her ear, canine catching on the top of her ear. Ayra flinched, yanking her head out of his grip.

“Aren’t you married or something?” The Dalish elf snapped, slapping his hand away. 

All eyes were on Ayra now as she glared at the looming God. He let out a low hoot of laughter before stepping back and giving her space. 

“Never was married, Mythal and I just so happened to be attached at the hip, if you get what I mean.” He dropped a wink, holding out his hand. Ayra looked down at it stupidly before admiring the carefully manicured nails. 

“I-uh, what’s that?” She asked dumbly, looking up at the carved angles of Elgar’nan’s face. Behind him, Andruil sighed, 

“It’s a hand you blithering idiot.” 

“Come da’len, you fascinate me and I desire to know you more.” She reluctantly slipped her hand on his much larger one and let him lead her to his seat where he would convince her to stay for the majority of the party. 


End file.
